‘That’s a very foolish thing to say, Mister Lipwig,’ said Vimes. There’s nothing “glorious” about times like this … People have died, not necessarily good people and not too many, but nevertheless the face you wear on a battlefield should be a solemn one until the time when things are cleaned up and the real world drips its way in.’

Moist felt the shame welling up from his boots and said, ‘Commander, I stand abashed, quite sincerely.’

And instantly Vimes’s face was eyeballing his and the commander exclaimed, ‘Really? It seems it’s not just the railway breaking new ground here!’

For once short of a ready reply, Moist turned to see what had become of Rhys and his party.

Rhys Rhysson had entered the cavern at a run. He headed straight for its centre, where stood the Scone of Stone. Now he looked around and demanded, ‘Where is Ardent? I want him brought here, and as many of his followers as still remain. Though doubtless most have run: this place is full of exits.’

Bashfull Bashfullsson shouted, ‘I have the scoundrel here, sire!’

The assembly of dwarfs went into the usual seemingly endless dwarfish hubbub, followed by a deep intake of breath from all concerned when Ardent was brought forward. His expression Moist couldn’t read. But Moist, the man for atmospheres, could tell that Ardent was already somewhere beyond sanity, whilst Rhys seemed as cool and calm as ever, however fearful he might have been on the inside. And Moist would have wagered the mint that the King wasn’t actually fearful at all. There was something in his demeanour that suggested an absolute assurance that this day was his (or indeed, hers, as he finally allowed the thought to creep back into his consciousness).

Sitting on the hallowed Scone of Stone with Ardent in front of him, Rhys said, ‘You were dealt with mercifully after the Koom Valley Accord and still you thought it was right to try to take this kingdom from me. You encouraged those who tortured families to get their own way. What would people think of me if I had even a most minute inclination to treat you kindly? You are clever and many dwarfs speak highly of you, but your cleverness has been used to undermine my rule and make dwarfs appear to be vicious and stupid criminals in the eyes of all other species. What have you to say, in front of me and your kin?’

Ardent was silent.

‘Very well,’ said the King. ‘No answer. You leave me no alternative. In times gone by a dwarf king would execute someone like you as a matter of course.’

And then there was the sound of metal and the King stood up, axe in hand. At last the light of terror passed across Ardent’s face.

The King said, ‘Oh, I see. Then perhaps as I am … you know … a modernizer, as you always say with a sneer, perhaps I’ll deal with you as a modernizer should. Therefore, you will go on trial. And I shall see to it that among the jury there will be the families of those the grags tortured and those surviving guests of the wedding in Llamedos and all the others whose lives have been unnecessarily troubled by your existence in this world. They may be merciful and I will accept their verdict.’